What's in a Name?
by SnubNosedSilhouette
Summary: An unexpected surprise forces Rose and the Doctor to re-evaluate their life together.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the rights to Doctor Who or any of its associated characters. Just taking them out for a spin.

**A/N: **I'm blaming the incredible amount of angst here on the fact that I wrote this during the final days of spring semester when I was both teaching and studying.

* * *

At first she thought she'd have to spell it out for him.

She'd found out on Wednesday, but had waited until Friday night to let him in on her secret-she didn't know how he'd react and figured that giving him the weekend before he was expected to go back to work and behave as normally as he was capable of behaving was the kindest option available to her. She also half-hoped that he'd figure it out himself and save her from having to break news that would either fill him with joy or absolutely crush him.

She practiced saying the words in the mirror a hundred times. "I have something interesting to tell you," or "I know we didn't exactly plan this, but we weren't really preventing it either," or "So, you know how I've been feeling sick lately?" Nothing sounded right.

In the end, she simply thrust the thin white plastic stick into his hands the second they walked through the door. Two lines.

"Um, Rose? Why does this thing smell like urine?" was probably the last thing she'd expected him to say.

Oh God, she realized. _He doesn't know what a bloody pregnancy test is. Of all the times for the gaps in his knowledge of daily human life to pop up…_ "Uh, well-" she began.

"Wait, I know this. Give me a sec-Donna knew what this was," his brow furrowed as he tried to retrieve the memory from the fragmented banks of the Doctor-Donna consciousness he'd inherited. For some reason the Donna memories had always been on a kind of time delay. He'd recognize something but not be able to place it for a minute-usually a very awkward minute if he was talking to someone who didn't know who he really was.

"Oh my," the furrow disappeared only to be replaced by two _very_ surprised eyebrows. "Is this…? Are you?"

She nodded, unable to suppress her smile any longer. Of course she was terrified—not only of his reaction, but also of what this meant for her and for them together. But she was happy too. She'd thought about motherhood before, particularly in the last two years, and now it was going to become a reality.

"Oh."

He wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked as if a bomb had just gone off in his face and he'd been knocked clear off his feet. For a minute he just stood there, and she'd begun to worry that he'd gone into some kind of shock when he turned and gave her his biggest, fakest smile. "Good, that's good. Great, even. Really great. Extra great! Except, you know, I just realized I forgot something at the office. Before we…um…well, it won't take me a minute to run back to fetch it." He embraced her quickly and raced out the door before she could speak.

That hadn't gone well at all.


	2. Chapter 2

_Pregnant. Rose is pregnant_. He kept repeating the words in his head as he walked purposefully down the street from their flat. He needed to think. Needed to get away. Needed to wander and get lost and find himself somewhere unexpected more urgently than he could remember feeling in a very long time. Since before he was human, as a matter of fact.

_Pregnant_. _Baby. I'm going to be a father-_and then the word he never let himself think-_a__gain_.

He'd told Rose once. Had told Martha and Donna too, actually. Not much, of course. Not details. He never talked about it. Never thought about it. About them. His-_think it-_children.

The tears started slipping down his cheeks before he knew what was happening. Thrusting his hands into the pockets of his long coat he bowed his head, attempting to keep his grief private even in the midst of the busy street.

_I can't do this again_.


	3. Chapter 3

In the years to come they would both agree that the following months were the worst of their long and storied relationship.

He hadn't come home for hours that first night. Every time she tried to bring up the pregnancy he changed the subject. Every time she yelled, he left.

Needless to say, they didn't share a room again for quite some time.

Everyone at work pretended not to notice that things were most definitely not okay between them. Pete offered to beat the Doctor senseless one afternoon when he caught Rose crying in the file room, but she refused to let him. Hurting him wouldn't fix anything.

And then one day he seemed to adjust to the idea. He brought her a cup of tea at her desk, shut the door, and kissed her the way he'd kissed her when their relationship was still new and uncomplicated and she'd had no doubts about his feelings for her. He stopped spending the night at Torchwood after that. They didn't really talk about the pregnancy, but she caught him looking at her sonogram pictures one morning when he thought she was still asleep, and at night his hand started to curve around her swollen abdomen before they went to sleep.

They were still awkward around one another, though. He helped her paint the spare bedroom and assembled the crib, but wouldn't talk about the baby. Wouldn't even say the word. The baby's room was "the-ah-room." The crib was "the-ah-bed." She caught him looking at her warily in the mirror one morning when she was trying on a new maternity jumper and couldn't keep from bursting into tears. He ran out of the room as soon as her face started to screw up.

For all the Doctor talked, and he still talked all the time, he never really _said_ much anymore, she realized. The words were just to fill the silence. She knew he was trying to fix things between them, but he was just such utter crap at it that it was almost like he wasn't making an effort at all.

Then, in the early hours of the morning one June day she shook him awake.

"It's time."


	4. Chapter 4

He knew he was ruining everything they'd worked so hard to build. If his past selves-his self of two years ago who had fought so hard to get Rose to realize that he was and always would be her Doctor, or his Time Lord self in the other dimension who'd loved her enough to give her up-had seen the way he treated her during those months he knew he'd probably create some kind of paradox. Because his other selves would have killed him with their bare hands. Frankly, he was amazed that Pete hadn't done more than yell at him a few times. He couldn't help himself, though.

The problem wasn't Rose. It was him. Rather, it was the memory of children he'd lost, the fear of what the future held for this child, and the sure knowledge that he _could not_ go through that kind of torture again.

So he took his fear out on her.

Then, one afternoon, he'd been in the loo just washing his hands when he got a good look at himself in the mirror. Back when the Time War was still a fresh wound, and when he was so very angry with the universe, Rose Tyler had saved him. She'd made him laugh again, had made him understand compassion and love again, and she'd made him want to be a better man. And what had he given her in return? He'd broken her heart. At least twice.

In that minute he hated himself.

She didn't deserve this. It wasn't her fault. She didn't even know, not really, why this news had changed everything between them. He wasn't being fair to her, and she deserved so much more than fairness.

So he'd made her a cup of tea, had gone to her office, and had tried to show her with his lips that he still loved her. That he couldn't live without her. That he was going to change. Promising to change was easier than effecting it, though.

It was easier when she wasn't there. The sonogram photos-the first time he had seen them he felt that his heart would burst. There it was-their child-all grainy and blurry and looking like a Fretratrian (_when would humanity invent a decent scanner?_ was what he wanted to know), and perfect. Absolutely perfect. He suspected she'd caught him looking at them at least once, but he couldn't bring himself to so much as glance in their direction when he knew she was watching. He had taken one for himself, though, unbeknownst to her. He tucked it into his inside jacket pocket every morning, right next to his heart.

He painted the room, he assembled the crib, and at night he stroked her stomach and felt their child move. It wasn't enough, and he knew it, but it was all he could give. He hoped someday she'd be able to forgive him for not being everything she needed.

Then, early one morning, the time for forgiveness came.


	5. Chapter 5

He stayed with her. She'd been half afraid he wouldn't. Half afraid that he'd deliver her to hospital only to turn right around and walk out the doors again. But he didn't. He looked completely ill and more than one nurse had asked him if he needed to sit down, but he'd stayed.

And then there she was. Their daughter. Tiny and perfect with a shock of dark brown hair that looked so much like his (it even stuck out in a little peak in the front!) she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. He'd almost refused to accept her when the nurse handed her over with a, "here you go, Dad!" He still looked like he might vomit, but he didn't. He just gazed into her tiny face, and Rose watched as he fell in love with their daughter.

He'd nearly panicked when the nurses had taken her back, explaining that they needed to run some tests. Rose had needed to intercede, explaining that all babies needed to have blood drawn and be weighed and measured before being released to their parents' care. It occurred to her that he had no idea what the protocol was for human births. He anxiously paced the room and babbled about nothing the whole time she was gone.

When the nurse came to ask them what name to write on the birth certificate, they'd both been struck speechless for a minute. They hadn't picked one yet, Rose explained. Tomorrow? The nurse smiled, agreed that naming a child was an important decision, and told them she'd be back when they'd made a decision.

"I was thinking Elizabeth," she'd told him softly after the nurse had closed their door.

"Elizabeth is good," he agreed, unable to take his eyes off the baby's sleeping face.

"Do you…I mean, I know naming is a serious thing on Gallifrey. Do you…want to give her a Gallifreyan name?" She held her breath. His own name was still a mystery to her.

"She's human," he said, simply. "Elizabeth is lovely. Very English."

So she was Elizabeth.


	6. Chapter 6

He'd lied, of course. Elizabeth was no more human (well, perhaps a bit more, but not in any way that counted for his purposes) than he was. Rose had been right when she'd said that naming was a serious business on Gallifrey. The fact was, he'd never given Rose his own name-a carryover, he expected, from the centuries he'd spent refusing to entertain the notion that he would ever share that kind of intimacy with another person again. He needed to fix that.

For Elizabeth, though, he hesitated. Any child born to a Time Lord needed a Gallifreyan name. A secret name. A powerful name. A name that would only be shared with a handful of people, if that, in her lifetime. Such a name took time to develop, so he decided to give it time.

Late at night he'd sing to her in his own language. When they were alone he'd tell her stories about Gallifrey. And one night, when she was eating every hour and Rose was so tired she'd actually started to cry when Elizabeth's yell woke her again, he rocked his daughter gently and told her about the brothers and sisters who had died before she was born. That night he cried too.

The next morning he phoned Jackie. They'd hardly spoken since Rose had announced her pregnancy and he'd lost his mind a little bit. He knew she was never really going to forgive him for that. Still, when he said that Rose was exhausted and he needed a few baby-free hours to take care of her, Jackie was there in a heartbeat. He made sure Elizabeth was secure in her pram, and tried not to panic as she left his sight for the first time since the hospital. Then he went back into their bedroom and curled up next to the still-sleeping Rose.

"What? What time is it? Does she need to eat again?" Rose startled, and looked around, unsure if it was night or day.

"Shhh," he stroked her hair and pulled her back down to the pillows. "Your mum has her for a few hours."

"I love you," she said, closing her eyes again and burrowing deeper into his arms.

"Sleep," he murmured. "But before you do, I have something to tell you."

"Mmmm?" she was already half unconscious.

And then he whispered his name into her ear.

Her eyes flew open, and she looked up at him. "Was that…?"

"It was. I should have given it to you a long time ago." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Sleep now, and we'll talk about her name later."

And Rose slept.


End file.
